Galaxy Child
by juxtaposed.on.starlight
Summary: Sarah-Jane Lewiston's life is about to be turned upside down. A sheltered nineteen-year-old, she's never been ... normal. Who better to spin her life in a complete three sixty and help her figure out who she truly is than, of course, the Doctor?


It was almost six o'clock. It would take longer than it usually took to hail a cab, as everyone would be doing as she was in an effort to make it home before curfew. If she didn't get home in time, her father would be worried. His eyebrows would knit together over watery blue eyes, and the worry lines on his forehead would deepen and crease, more so than they usually did when it came to her and her tendency to get herself into trouble. Six o'clock was an unnecessary curfew - after the first time, months ago, there were no injuries or major property damage - but the city was enforcing it as a "precautionary measure". Simply to ensure that nobody got themselves hurt, not again.

"Oh, my! It's almost six o'clock." A familiar voice trilled from somewhere behind her. Instead of addressing the voice, she buried her nose farther in the leather bound book settled atop her knees. Licking the tip of her forefinger, she turned the page with a flourish.

"You ought to be skedaddling on home, dearie. You know how your father worries."

"But I'm reading," she argued.

"Check it out, then, sweetheart," she wagged her finger at the young woman, her tongue clicking in disapproval.

Giving a single nod of assent, she hauled herself out of the comfy chair and trudged over to the check-out. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of mothballs and mold, she dog-eared the page in her leather bound book and closed it. Setting it atop the counter, she rummaged through her knapsack and, after a few moments, produced a thin plastic card. Setting it on the front cover of the book, she pushed it towards the little old lady behind the counter.

"Sarah-Jane Lewiston! What did I tell you about having multiple library cards?"

"Well, you said not to apply for multiple library cards because that isn't fair to everyone else. But I've already exceeded the check-out limit on my real library card!" A sheepish smile graced her heart-shaped face, and she batted her eyelashes teasingly. "Miss Abernathy, please? Let's let it slide, just this once, and I swear on my granddaddy's grave that I won't do it again!"

Once again, her tongue clicked in disapproval. For a moment, she held the honey-blond haired young woman's green-eyed gaze, then she let it drop. Opening the book to the inside cover, she stamped the thin strip of paper attached to the inside with a due date. Then, she plucked up the card with nimble fingers and flipped it over.

Snorting, she raised her eyebrows and paused to glance up at the young woman and tried to stifle a smile. "Sherlock Holmes?"

"I'm somewhat surprised that application was even accepted. Of course, everyone is supposed to be able to get a library card, but... really?" A giggle bubbled up, and she slid the book into her knapsack as Ms. Abernathy scanned the bar code on her card. "I'm guessing you're letting the volunteers do that, nowadays?"

Smiling fondly, she handed her back her card. "I'm getting too old for that business, and someone has got to do it..." she trailed off with a sigh, and held one finger up. "Let me grab my coat, and I'll walk you out, sweetheart."

As soon as she'd slipped her coat on, Sarah-Jane looped her arm through Ms. Abernathy's and led her out. Patiently waiting until she'd finished fumbling with her over-sized key ring and locking the front doors ( although nobody would ever dream of breaking into the _library _), she walked her down to a busier part of the side street. Giving a small smile and wave as the librarian tottered on down the sidewalk, towards her small townhouse at the end of the street, she turned and started off in the other direction.

Checking her watch, she clicked her tongue at the time. 5:46pm. Frowning, she hurried along down the street. There were few milling around now, purely because it was so close to curfew. Few would dare risk it, nowadays. Which was utterly ridiculous, because there were only tremors, now. Nothing like it was in the beginning, months ago. But still, fear instilled itself in their hearts and so they scurried off like rats in the sewer, hiding away in their homes. As if that would help.

Suddenly, very suddenly, she was met with something solid. Something solid, and warm, and _alive. _Stumbling backwards, she swore under her breath as the books tumbled out of her knapsack. Mumbling an apology, she swooped down to pick up her books, wide-eyed.

Clutching the books tightly to her chest, she blinked up at the man in front of her. Dressed in a tweed jacket, and a silly red bowtie, it was near impossible to guess his age. His hair was untidy, like that of a child. His eyes were bright, a smile just touching his lips. In his hands was a strange object. It appeared to be made of metal, and the tip was a blue light. A memory flitted on the edges of her conscious, as though she'd seen the object before and knew what it was. The memory was flighty, and whenever she got too close, slipped through her fingers and away as quickly as it'd come.

Blinking at the small object in his hands, the man glanced up at her and lost his worried expression, giving her a broad smile. He tucked the whatchamacallit into his coat pocket, and extended his hand out for her to shake. "Hello! I'm the Doctor, and you are...?"


End file.
